Bad Days
by Bug Evans
Summary: John had a rough couple of days but when he goes to Joss for comfort, he finds that he may be the one who needs to provide it. (One Shot)


**Author's Note: This was supposed to be a drabble based on the prompt "Reese joins Carter in the shower" but it took a life of its own.**

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><p>John's day had been long and exhausting. He'd wrapped up the last number with only one thing, or rather person, on his mind.<p>

Joss.

It was late at night. He knew she'd work a long day too. She had probably gone to bed as soon as she got home but he didn't care. He wanted to see her. He needed to see her. The last two days had been busy, filled with more guilty than innocents, he needed to be near the one person whose humanity wasn't soiled.

He walked up the few steps leading to her house, using his key to let himself in. As he expected, her home was plunged in darkness and silence. He climbed up the stairs to get to Joss' room but the sliver of light coming from underneath it surprised him. He had been so sure she would be asleep that he hadn't considered the possibility she wouldn't be. For the first time since he made the decision of coming over, he questioned whether or not she would be okay with him showing up this late.

He knocked on her bedroom door—a light rasp of his knuckles so as not to startle her or wake her in case she'd fallen asleep with the lights on—and entered when he didn't get an answer, only to find a cleanly made bed and no Joss. A slight wave of panic started to wash over him before he registered the sound of water coming from the adjoining bathroom.

His first instinct was to sit on one of the tub chair by the window. And he'd done so for a couple of minutes, until the eagerness he'd felt since he set foot in her house increased tenfold knowing she was in the next room, wet and nude. He knocked on the bathroom door.

"Joss?" He called out her name through the door, one hand in mid-air ready to knock again, the other on the knob ready to enter. No answer. He knocked again, a little louder this time before calling her name once more. He much preferred is usual plan of action which consisted in barging in unannounced, a pet peeve of hers, which is why he tried being more respectful of her wishes and knock before entering. He could still hear the water running, it had been for a while now. He had a bad gut feeling. Something wasn't right. It was unlike her to spend this long in the shower—excluding those she took before getting ready for one of their dates. He decided to go in.

He knew she was in there. He could see her body through the blurred glass of the shower stall. But the knowledge did nothing to ease his worry.

"Joss?"

"J-John?" Her voice was raspy as though she'd been crying.

"I knocked but you didn't answer," he paused when he heard her sniffle. "Are you okay?" He made quick work of undressing to join her in the shower.

"Hey." He spoke in a low voice. Her big red-rimmed eyes looked back at him, tear streaks marking her cheeks.

"Hey." She replied back with a voice so brittle it tore at his heart. He had an impulse to crush whoever was responsible for this.

"What's wrong?" As soon as the words left his mouth, tears gathered in her eyes. She lowered her head so he wouldn't see her cry. He felt so powerless seeing her like this, all he could do was hold her close and tight. She let herself be held while the tears flowed freely. After a moment the weeping turned into a silent cry allowing John to disengage from her and lather her loofah with soap. He washed her first, then himself, rinsed them both before helping her out of the shower. By then, the tears had subsided but he kept taking care of her nonetheless. He towelled her dry, helped her into her bathrobe then dried himself up while she went in her bedroom in search of something to wear to bed.

She came back wearing a tank top and boy shorts and handed him clean boxer briefs. Now he was glad she made a habit of stealing them when she stayed at his place.

He knew the small smile on her lips when she gave him the piece of clothe was an attempt to reassure him. It wasn't working. The worry he'd felt increased. He wanted to know what happened, what got her in such a state, however, he didn't want to rush her.

Once dressed, he joined her on her bed. He sat next to her in companionable silence. Her head was on his shoulder, her hand was in his and both were in his lap, her thumb drawing circular patterns on his skin. He planted a kiss on top of her head. He wasn't sure what else he could do but he wanted to be here for her.

"Thank you." Her voice was low, the usual assurance found in it had returned. John exhaled. She wasn't broken, just bent. She would be okay. He didn't say anything in return, hoping his lack of words would urge her to fill the silence by talking about what happened to her. Thankfully, it did.

"We interrogated a suspect for three hours today. He had a problem with me. A deep hatred for quote, unquote 'those of my kind'," she let out a humorless laugh before pursuing, "for three long hours he kept insulting me. Fusco wanted me to sit this one out but we both knew I was more qualified to get him to talk." John was seeing red.

"I usually don't let this get to me but...I don't know," she shrugged. "I guess I'm tired." As if right on cue a yawn escaped her.

"You should get some sleep, Joss." He got up from the bed pulling her along with him, lifted her covers so she could settle beneath them and kiss her lips when she did so. "Goodnight." He made his way to her bedroom door when she called after him.

"Aren't you staying? I would like you to stay."

Without a word he went through the motion of undressing down to his underwear, putting away his clothes and joining her in bed. Once he settled in, Joss spooned him, happy to be the big spoon for once—even if it was in name only, not in size—she kissed his back grateful to have him in her life.

They stayed silent for a long time. So long in fact, John thought she'd fallen asleep. He was proven wrong when she talked:

"John?" She whispered. She probably thought he was sleeping, he thought, just as he had a few seconds ago.

"Yes?" He turned around to face her, only to pull her closer to him for a kiss. He'd missed her.

"Promise me you won't do anything." He had to consider her words for a moment. His want to pummel the man into oblivion was strong but once more Joss' pleading eyes won over everything. He acquiesced with a nod of his head.

"I want to hear you say it," she punctuated each word with a peck on his lips. He caught her lips for a real kiss on the last word.

"I promise."

She gave a nod of her own, satisfied he gave her his word. She knew he would never break a promise, especially not one he'd made to her.


End file.
